AN: This isn't the general format for the story. The next chapter will be in 3rd person. I may revisit first person but I'll see how well it's received.
Believe it or not this fic was inspired from Eminem's Beautiful some time ago.
I don't own Harry Potter or any of it's characters.
Chapter One
The past two weeks in Italy had flown by far too quickly in my opinion. In fact, my entire summer holiday felt like a flash of laughter, relaxation fun and happiness. Upon returning from Hogwarts at the end of June, I had spent a lot of time with my family and extended family. At the end of July my parents, myself and my father's brother, along with his family left for Italy. I had spent several hours researching Italian culture and the language. I didn't get the accent down quite right but I could say "Where's the loo?" and "May I have a glass of sparkling water, please?" perfectly, along with a couple dozen other phrases. It was not perfect, but I think I did alright.
Upon returning home in mid- August I found a stack of letters addressed to me. Most were from Harry and Ron regarding my whereabouts. I admit that between the barbecues, luncheons, general get-togethers and the holiday in Italy, I had had little contact with my two best friends. I had expected to miss them immensely like I had in previous summers, but I was surprisingly wrong. Usually I found it difficult to mingle with my extended family as I was forced to hide a big part of my identity from them. Despite this, pretending to be a regular muggle was refreshing. I had felt like an invisible weight had been lifted off of my shoulders. In their world, I did not feel the need to worry about the horcruxes or whether or not a hidden death eaters would kill me without a moment's notice. It was as if the wizarding world did not exist and frankly I could not complain. I felt a smidgen of guilt as I knew my friends did not have the same luxery but at the time, I could not have felt freer. Of course, that smidgen of guilt quickly turned into a vast ocean when I read the letters.
The situation with Voldemort was getting worse, muggles, muggle-borns and blood traitors were being targeted at alarming rates. More muggles were going missing or turning up dead with no known cause of death. The magical community knew it was the work of the killing curse. The Order was doing their best to keep up with Voldemort's next move, but they were always a step ahead. And with Dumbledore gone...
I should have expected Ron and Harry to worry. Being a muggle-born and best friends with Harry Potter, I was prime abduction target. Not replying to their letters probably left them in a state of panic and I would not have been surprised if they showed up on my door step looking for me. I could see their faces as they would have seen my house empty, clearly untouched for days. The weight suddenly materialised on my petite shoulders again.
I made my way up the stairs to my bedroom, taking the stairs two at a time. My bedroom was fairly simple. The walls were light peach in colour with a white trim along the top. Across from the door was a wide window, overlooking the driveway. The window sported white blinds to my dismal. I always meant to get curtains, but I didn't spend enough time to validate it. My desk was against the wall to my right with my bed against the opposite wall. My bureau with a mirror hanging over it was near the door and the white door leading to my closet was right beside it. My room was nothing spectacular, but it was certainly an upgrade from the dormitories at Hogwarts. Glancing at my window again, I saw Pig perched on the sill in a drowsy state. I absently wondered how long he had been there waiting.
I pulled out my trunk from my closet and found a quill and some parchment. Sitting at my desk I found writing with a quill a bit strange after not using one for almost two months but halfway through my response letter, I became comfortable again.
I briefly told them about my trip and promised that I was alright. I also said I would be arriving Sunday evening to spend the last few weeks of summer with them all at the Burrow. The apology for my absence was bit difficult to write. With all that was going on I wasn't sure how to word it without sounding insincere and indifferent. I made a note that a proper apology would be in order when I saw them.
I gave my letter to Pig who almost fell off the sill after I startled him by opening the window. The tiny owl instinctively nipped at me before realising who I was. I told him I'd give him a big treat when I saw him again. He titled his head in an odd manner before taking off.
Sighing I turned back to my desk and picked up the last letter, one that wasn't from Ron or Harry, but from Hogwarts. Hogwarts. I had wondered what would happened to school with Dumbledore gone. Many thought it would close in the wake of the war but I had hoped it was not. I still had much to learn and I had to do my N.E. . Granted I had no idea what I wanted to do once I left Hogwarts, I knew I wanted to give myself every opportunity possible once the war was over.
Yes, we will win the war I told myself.
I could feel the envelope was thick and that gave me hope. Usually that meant supply lists, prefect duties and upcoming announcements for the year. I breathed out heavily and tore open the envelope. Inside I found four things; a letter from McGonagall, about Hogwarts still being opened and that term would start on the first of September, a supply list for all of my classes, a Head Girl badge and a letter to go with said badge.
I Hermione Jean Granger was made head girl. I couldn't say I was completely surprised as I was at the top of my class and a well spoken leader but the possibility of being Head Girl hadn't even crossed my mind in months. With the possibility that Hogwarts could close and with Voldemort's horcruxes still out there, I had pushed all hopes and thoughts of being Head Girl out of my mind. There was a very real possibility we wouldn't even be returning to Hogwarts, regardless of its status. Yet now, here it was, my badge, and it filled me with a welcoming sense of purpose.
I walked over to the mirror above my bureau with the golden badge and held it over my right chest. I swept my curly chocolate brown hair over my left shoulder. I was glad that it was not as frizzy as it once was but it was still a mission to get a brush to run through it effortlessly on the first try. The gold in the badge brought out the slight golden speckles in my auburn eyes. To be completely honest it just looked liked it belonged there all along. I couldn't help but smile at the thought.
Before I knew it, Sunday was here. By noon I was already packed and ready to go and so I spent the rest of the afternoon trying to distract myself from my upcoming reunion with the Wizarding World. I watched two movies with my mum, both in which the lad and the girl got together and lived happily ever after, or so we're lead to believe. She is definitely a sucker for that sort of thing, while I just put up with it because I enjoy her company.
Soon after my dad asked me to drive with him to the store to pick up a bottle of wine for the dinner I would not be partaking in. We did not speak on the way there and it was almost a silent trip back until he broke the comfortable silence.
"You sure you don't want to stay for dinner 'Mione?" he asked, focusing on the road.
"Yeah," I sighed "I promised I'd be there for six." I glanced at the clock on the dashboard, quarter-past-five. My father simply nodded and we were silent for a little while more.
"Did you have fun watching the movies with mum?" I could tell he was thinking about something that made him uncomfortable her nervous. He only forced conversation when he wanted the other person to bring up whatever he was thinking about. I decided to go along.
"It was alright. Not my thing, you know." I replied. He chuckled and turned down the radio that I hadn't even noticed was on until now.
"You know your mother, love will conquer all."
I smiled at my father's recital of my mother's words. "And she knows I don't believe in that rubbish, but every chance she gets..."
"She's got you watching those films" he finished my sentence with a grin.
"Or reading the novels, or telling me some sappy story from your past." I added.
He turned came to a red light and stopped the car as we laughed. He finally turned to me and said "You know your mother only wants to see you happy right?"
I turned to him "I know. But I wish she didn't associate me being with someone with happiness."
"Mmm," I could tell he was trying to figure out how to get the conversation to where he wanted it to go. "What's your friend, er- Ron up to?"
Ron? That's what my father wanted to talk about. I could tell that my disbelief was drawn all over my face as my father looked at me and quickly corrected himself. "I mean Harry and the family and everything."
I wasn't buying it. "I suppose they're all alright, seeing as I haven't seen them yet. But from there letters, everyone is well." He nodded and when the light finally turned green he pulled off and his focus was back on the road. "And there is nothing happening between Ron and I," I added.
I had talked about Ron, mostly with my mother, in the past. She could tell that I liked him and she hoped that I would muster up the courage to tell him how I felt. Up until recently the mere idea of putting myself out there like that made my stomach churn, but last year, I felt something. It became clear to me that there was something there with us, but neither of us were ready to explore it and that's where we left it. I told my mother this while we were in Italy and now I was guessing that she let all of this slip to my father at some point.
"Especially with as war going on." My father said in a low voice that I barely heard. I could feel my eyes widen as he mentioned the war. It wasn't something I talked about with them. Mainly because they could not fathom their little girl fighting in battle. In our world- their world, you trained for months to do that sort of thing with weapons and machinery, not just the clothes on your back and a piece of wood.
They were frightened and so was I, so we avoided the topic altogether.
I nodded and stared out the windshield as we neared our home.
"You'll be fine 'Mione." he continued "You're strong and you know that. Now you just have to show the world that." I looked at him as he pulled into our driveway. This was what he wanted to say all along but didn't know how to bring it up out of the blue. I admired my dad that way. He had such a good heart and his old ways of thinking that fathers couldn't get emotional and have heart-to-hearts was endearing.
He put the car in to park and pulled the hand break up before he glanced at me, unsure of my reaction to his words. I smiled at him as I felt my eyes water, threatening to spill tears. My father's eyes were glossy as well but he would not cry, I've never seen him cry. Instead he grabbed my shoulder and pulled me into a hung. Unsure of what to do with his hands, he patted my back as though I was an infant. I, not as afraid to show my emotion, held on to the man how helped create me. My tears finally fell.
"I love you Dad." I mumbled into his tear stained shirt. He stopped patting me awkwardly and rubbed my back in a comforting notion. He kissed the top of my head and held me tighter.
"I love you too Hermione."
Once my father and I arrived home, I only had a couple of hours with my parents before it was time for me to go. By the time six 0'clock arrived I was already in the entrance with my trunk and ready to go. I had said goodbye to my parents many time before as this wasn't the first time I had spent part of my holidays with the Weasleys, and of course I had to say good bye when I went off to Hogwarts each September. This time was different. Despite the bonding moment with my father earlier and spending most of the day with my mum, there was still a trace of tension. Like me, they were afraid for their only child's life. And like me they did not want to bring it up because that would make it all far to real. Instead we hugged and said our goodbyes like any other year. I promised to write and told them I would be back for the holidays. As I went to walk over the threshold of the front door I turned around to look at my parents one last time. Our deep brown eyes knowingly met one another. With a slight nod and a faint smile I turned and walked away from my childhood home.
I never spent much time in the attic of the Manor growing up, if any. It was filled with old family heirlooms, also known as rubbish. It was dusty, and mouldy as the house elves never touched it. Why would they though? In a family of three, one was at school for ten months out of the year, one was in Azkaban and the other spent most of their time in the gardens. A waste of efforts it would have been. So when I saw the transformation my mother had made of the tight space, I was quite amazed.
The once cluttered, single windowed dirty room now housed two makeshift beds, an armoire and a few personal possessions. The old contents of the attic lined the walls and were no longer dust covered. It was simple, below my standards but it was my home now.
After fleeing Hogwarts in June with Snape, I had expected to die. I had made up my mind that I would not beg and plea for my own life, but simply ask that my mother and father not be harmed for my incompetence. I had gone through all of planning, the trials and the failure to keep them safe. I was not about to have my efforts be in vain. My plan to die a brave man fled when I arrived at Malfoy Manor that night.
I felt my insides lurch as we landed at the gates of Malfoy Manor. The dash from the castle and side along apparation, along with all that had happened in the past few hours had had my stomach in convulsions. Before I could crouch down and attempt to alleviate my symptoms, Snape grabbed the cuff of my robes and dragged me through the iron gates.
Once I caught my breath and felt like I could talk without vomiting I asked Snape what we were doing at my home.
"We are going to see the Dark Lord, Draco. Surely you felt his summoning." he replied, sounding vexed by the situation he was in.
"Of course I did." I retorted, absently touching my Dark Mark. I still had not gotten used to the instantaneous pain that shot it self up my left forearm when the Dark Lord requests an audience. Tonight was the first time he had summoned me since I became a death eater. When I first felt it, I thought it was my punishment for failing my task, he was going to kill me through the Dark Mark. I had a brief fit of fear, before remembering that this was his way of calling his branded followers. If I hadn't felt like a Death Eater before, I definitely did then.
"So what are we doing here for?"
Snape continued at a brisk pace and to my shock, I was finding it difficult to keep up with him. I was much more exhausted than I though.
"The Dark Lord has taken up residence at the Manor Draco." he said, not turing to look at me. I almost came to a complete stop.
"What?!" I protested "What the hell is he doing in MY home?!" Snape stopped abruptly and whirled me around to face him.
"Do you have any idea what you are about to encounter boy?" Sanpe asked urgently. Before I could reply he continued "The Dark Lord does not take kindly to failure. He will not hesitate to kill you or worse. It does not matter that you are still a child, you left that behind when you took that mark." I was going to say that I was not a child, far from it, but the look on his face threatened to have me see my dinner again, so I decided to keep my mouth shut. When I did not speak, Snape put both hands on my shoulder and looked me squarely in the eyes. "As far as you are concerned, the Dark Lord's presence at Malfoy Manor is a great honour."
I continued to look at him as I felt a familiar scowl settle on my face. I hated this, all of it. I could tell the almost black eyes staring back at me hated it as well, but like me, he had no choice. After a curt nod, he turned away and started again for the Manor.
Sharing my home with the Dark Lord and a hand full of his followers was an ordeal in itself. Being an only child, I never had to share, I don't think I even knew the meaning of the word until I was nine-years-old. This has made me very territorial, I learned this in my days of sharing a dormitory at Hogwarts. My trunk, quill, my night table, my window, my swiss chocolates from home. I never cared for the treats Mother sent me so I could have shared them, but I didn't, because they were mine.
Now sharing what my ancestors had worked so hard to achieve and what was rightfully mine with the very man who tore apart my family was asking too much of my seventeen year old self. I was angry and irritable to say the least, but given the circumstances, I had to hold my tongue and act as though taking over my family home was a gift. It is what my father would have done.
My father was still in Azkaban and I knew he would be disappointed to know what was happening in his absence.
"You are just like your father Draco," the Dark Lord hissed "a failure!" I was kneeling in what once was my family's sitting room. The Dark Lord had turned it into some sort of a throne room, where he sat in a high back chair my father used to occupy when we had company. The death eaters present stood before him and I was directly in front of him, on my knees, alone. I tried to tune out his words, hoping death would come soon and painless, but it was difficult to, when his words were truth.
"He was outsmarted by teenaged brats, and you by an old fool!" he continued. "Tell me boy, what did the old coot promise you in exchange for his life? I know, he must have said something." I glanced up at the Dark Lord, his serpentine face waiting for an answer.
I had nothing to say, I was too afraid to speak. Hell, I was too afraid to breath. This angered him even further. "CRUCIO!" was the last thing I heard from him before my body jerked up in agonizing pain. I cried out as what felt like lightning shot up my spine and into my skull. I grabbed my head, the pain causing me to jerk forward and strike the cold floor with my nose. I doubled over still crying out over my head that was seemingly having nails dug into every inch and my now broken nose. Why wasn't anyone stopping him? But then, who would? Snape? He had his own arse to worry about. I truly was on my own.
When the curse was lifted, I realised that I had began to cry at some point when I went to wipe the blood from my face.
"Answer me boy." the Dark Lord sneered. I had no other option, I had to make my mouth work. The curse had revved up my already unbalanced stomach from before and I hoped it would only be word escaping my lips.
"My Lord," I began. My father taught me that that was the proper way to address the Dark Lord if you did not want to endure what I just had. "He, he told me- that he would keep m family safe… if I hid out at the Order."
The Dark Lord laughed, a nasty, hollow laugh. "Boy, was that not what I was doing for you already? You kill the fool and your father will continue to sit in Azkaban as opposed to meeting his demise at my hands and your mother… stays in one piece. The fool was far too late at making deals." he laughed again, his laugh echoing through the large room with it's now bare walls.
I felt something move beside me, something inhumane. Before I could turn my head to see what it was I had all the air forced out of my lungs by a heavy wight on my weakened back that landed me on my stomach.
"Don't be alarmed by Nagini, she won't hurt you, yet. In fact, it seem that she has taken a liking to you." I heard the Dark Lord say quizzically. I was choking and struggling to catch my breath as I heard the lizard hiss in my right ear.
Turning my head in an attempt to escape the haunting hissing I saw her. My mother. She was far in the back of the crowd but I could spot her in a sea of hundreds any day. She was sobbing quietly but that was not what alarmed me. Unfortunately I have seen my mother cry on a number of occasions and it never gets any easier. There isn't quite a feeling, at least not one that I've experienced like seeing your own mother cry. It was seeing her bloodied collar, her bruised eye, her limp hand, features that were not there when I flooed with her the day before, that caught me. Whatever it was that they were going to do to her they had already done. Or had they? Regardless that was not a part of the agreement. She was not to be harmed, not until I faced my fate for failing. Yet here she was, bloodied and broken, crying over her only child. Her only child who's eyes she refused to meet.
The hissing continued and it was all I could hear. It was like a lull, pressuring me to submit. It wasn't needed though, I wasn't moving, but neither was the snake. It just kept hissing in my head. I don't remember how long I was on the ground trying to get my mother to look at me before I felt the need to get up. Perhaps I was determined to not have that as the last image of my mother or maybe I was just afraid that I would leave this world because of a damn snake but I managed to roll over onto my back with great ease. I used my legs to stabilise the creature as I coiled my arm around its upper half. She quickly lunged at me and my hand clamped on its jaw. I had rolled over on to my front, putting my weight on the snake when I felt my body go stiff and it uncoiled itself from my grip. It was then that I had realised what I had done, and then that I knew what I was going to be killed.
I imagine one doesn't wrangle the Dark Lord's pet like a ragdoll and lives to tell the tale, so I released my hold of the serpent and it slithered away slowly. I shut my eyes and said I little prayer for my parents' safety. After holding my breath for a few seconds, I heard slow, dull clapping. I cracked open on of my eyes to see the Dark Lord clapping and having an almost amused look on his face.
"Well Draco, it would appear you have some fight in you after all." he said as he glanced down at his companion who slithered to his feet. I saw him nod across the room and before I knew it, I felt my self levitate above the ground and out of the room. The last thing I heard was the Dark Lord hissing to his companion before I was plunged into darkness.
No-Nose had the audacity to stick me in my family's dungeons. It wasn't too cold since it was July and it was well maintained as any proper dungeon should be. I was both grateful and ungrateful for the time spent alone. I had much time to think, too much time. I thought about my father and how is mistakes from the past had put us in this situation. My mother and how I prayed she was alive. I am not a religious person by any means, but in times of desperation you'll use any means to gain some comfort. Even if that means hoping to an invisible man in the sky for your mother's safety. I thought about my mission and how impossible it seemed, how I was set up to fail from the start. I thought of how I managed to do something no one had yet to do, and it brought me a small sense of pride. But then I thought of the old man. I'd never thought it possible to see the only man the Dark Lord feared look so frail. If I hadn't seen it myself I would not have believed it. And I thought of his words… and that's when I stopped thinking. I would try to think of other things, my childhood, my housemates, even that peculiar incident with the snake but it always came back to the old man and his dying words.
I was there for around 3 weeks, fed next to nothing, before I was reunited with my mother in another kind of prison, the attic.
Although it was above ground, the attic was not much different than the dungeons. Years of neglect showed in it's moulded crevices, rat droppings could be found in the corners. The only window that took up most of the far wall had been charmed to only show the ocean on a cloudy day. My mother quickly recognized the body of water as the North Sea where Azkaban is. We were told by one of the Death Eaters who brought up food that that was the Dark Lord's way of reminding my mother and I what he saved us from. The window was so dirty however that it really did not make a difference. Had the Dark Lord not murdered all of my house elves (I suspect he did since I have not seen one and Mother tells me he does not care for the creatures) I would have done it myself for leaving the attic in such shambles.
I could not say or do anything about the situation, to my dismay, but my mother tried to encourage me to be positive. I don't know what is positive about a mad man forcing you to be a prisoner in your own home. She tried to put on a brave and positive front, but I hear her cry at night, and this only makes me angrier.
The first time I saw her after my stay in the dungeons had been just as anyone could expect. Malfoys don't show their emotions, so when I was escorted upstairs into the attic and I first laid eyes on her unmarred face, I gave her a curt nod. She smiled slightly and said that it was good to see me again. That was it until that night when we were sure we would not me disturbed. I was sitting on my own, looking at one of the many muggle books that we were being punished with when she came over and sat down beside me. We sat like that for a few minutes before she wrapped her arms around me and we just cried. We cried for Father, for our home, for our situation, for our wounds, for each other and for ourselves. We didn't talk about what I had done or didn't do, we didn't talk about the wounds she had on the night I was supposed to die. We just cried. It's not a night I'll soon forget.
"Draco, have you looked at the mail?" my mother said as she emerged from the make shift loo, removing me from my thoughts. It had been been a week since that night.
I was surprised to see a toilet and sink in the attic, but that was all. My mother and I had managed to drape some tapestries we found in old trunks from the ceiling to separate the main space from the washroom. It feels dirty and beneath us but we have no choice. This must be how muggles live.
"Yes mother, it's the only mail we've gotten all summer." I said dully from my makeshift bed of bed spreads and curtains. Whatever owls arrived at the Manor was intercepted by the Dark Lord or his followers. The only thing we got was the Prophet every now and then and now my letter to Hogwarts, that I had no intention of opening.
"You should open it Draco." she said glancing at the letter settled on a top of muggle record player we were supplied with for entertainment. Another cruel joke obviously.
"Why?" I asked, propping myself up on my elbow. "I know what it says. I've received the same letter six years in row. I don't see why this year should be any different. Besides, it's not like I am going." My mother sighed as she sat down in front of me on her own makeshift bed.
"Mon chou," she began in French. It was our form of code since we did not know what was happening outside the confines of our attic and who could be listening. As far as my mother was aware, there were no Parisian death eaters in our home and none adequately versed in the language. "There is no way to trace your involvement in that man's murder. As far as the school is concerned, you left early for a summer holiday with me. Nothing has to change." I knew she was referring to Snape and whatever influence he had had over the Dark Lord and Hogwarts.
"Nothing has to change?" I replied in disbelief and in English. My french wasn't as good as my mother's. My father and his family had learned the language for business reasons in the past. She picked up the language from her seven years of schooling at Beauxbatons and then her additional years of teaching Herbiology there before having me. I learned it by having it forced upon me as a child and now practised it out of necessity. I personally thought the language was overly complicated and had too many rules.
I continued in French, "My father in rotting way in prison, we're living in squalor in our own home and there's a maniac plotting a war in our midsts! But nothing's changed!" there was so much more I could have added but I couldn't bring my self to do so.
"Don't yell Draco. It's unbecoming." she frowned. I slouched on my pile of drapery as she sat up straighter. She always had good posture that was obviously not passed down to me in his moment. She continued in French "I know that our situation is not ideal," I scoffed "but that is all the more reason why you should go back to school. There is nothing for you here but these four walls. Your headmaster reminded you that you have options. I'm not saying that you have to take them but it may be beneficial-"
"I am not accepting help from the golden amy. I'd rather die-" I began
"And you almost did." my mother's voice was raised now and this was not something that happened often. I had overstepped my boundaries. There was a moment of silence before she began again in a more calming tone. "The Dark Lord was kind in sparing your life, whatever the reason may have been. You don't have to accept the other side's help but you do have to escape this, if even for a little while."
I stared down at my hands and scowled at the hangnail plaguing my left forefinger. "I won't leave you here." My mother got up and crossed the short distance to my bed and sat down beside me. She took my left hand into her hands. I never noticed that my hands had grown larger than her's until now.
"Draco, this world is not for you. You are too good and have so much to become to be pulled into this mess. You are already a part of it but unlike most of us here, you can rise above it and school is the only way you can do that. We will do all that we can to protect you but we cannot do that if you don't help yourself first." I knew she was referencing Snape again. "And as for me, I'm almost insulted that you would worry about my well being. I've been married to a Death Eater for almost eighteen years and grew up with you aunt Bella, I'm sure I can take care of myself." I hated when my mother used humour to cover her own nerves especially when it was a failed attempt. I knew my mother and father had a decent marriage aside from arguments on how to raise me. She also had a good relationship with her sister for most of their lives. Her relationships with her husband and sister changed when the Dark Lord came back. Everything changed when he came back.
Her words made me feel like I was a child and she thought I could be distracted so easily. I was about to protest once again when she got up and went over to the muggle contraption to retrieve my letter. She handed it to me and smiled slightly.
"Consider this an order Draco. You will be going back to school. You may be seventeen now, but you are still my son." those word in French sounded so much more final. She sat back down on her bed and picked up a book she had been reading earlier in the day. The conversation was over.
In that moment I had no idea that the next month would prove to be more trying than anything I had ever experienced in my life.
No, at that moment, staring at the Hogwarts seal, I pondered for the umpteenth time, how I had come to a point where I was a prisoner in my childhood home. I also wondered at what point my hangnail had disappeared.
AN: There you go! I promise the coming chapters won't be this long, but I really didn't want to break up these two parts. As I stated, the story will continue in 3rd person for now as I personally find first person annoying for an entire story. But let me know what you think.